Discovering Delights
by DC Derringer
Summary: Dean is finally really dating Castiel, but he's getting frustrated that they Castiel won't let him go all the way.


Title: Discovering Delights

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Sex and other fun things

Summary: Dean is finally really dating Castiel, but he's getting frustrated that they Castiel won't let him go all the way.

Author's notes: The final chapter in the Discovering trilogy. And finally, some sex.

Dean had gotten over the whole 'gay' thing pretty quickly. Not that he was hanging out in gay bars with Castiel, or skipping down the street with him holding hands while they looked at each other adoringly, but he had stopped using the word 'gay' in such a derogatory fashion, which had Sam relieved, and the whole hand-holding thing, minus the skipping, was a comfortable intimacy that he found he enjoyed greatly, even when they were in public.

This didn't mean he actually considered himself gay though. He still caught himself, guiltily, checking out hot babes once in awhile, and when he watched porn (though that is required less and less lately), it was still the hetero kind, or even lesbians. And he certainly wasn't giving any men a second glance, even if he caught them looking at him. Which, he isn't sure if he's giving off some kind of new gay vibe, or he just never noticed getting checked out by men before.

Most importantly, he decided he didn't care anymore and will just continue loving Castiel, no matter what that made him.

And yes, it was love, he often admitted to himself, and sometimes even to Castiel, which made the angel smile, and warm up, and then smother Dean with affection, love and some inappropriate touching, which Dean no longer found at all inappropriate.

He also realized that a few months ago, as each date he had with Castiel moved further and further, and he let Castiel love him, as he'd requested, and Dean, first awkward in that glow of love, soon came to bask in it, missing it when it was gone, and longing for it. He found the hand holding comfortable, the light kisses warm, the heavier kisses warmer. And finally, he lived up to Castiel's expectations for him, and he returned the intense love that Castiel had discovered, thanks to a few devoted and perverted fans.

So after Dean kissed Castiel that first time, on their second actually real date, even though it had been the most innocent and chaste of kisses, it had opened a door that he could not, and honestly did not, want to close.

Which is why after a well-done hunt, he was grinding with an angel in a cheap motel room, with a sock on the outside door handle, groaning and panting from the pressure of the angel squeezed between his thighs, and soaking the inside of his shorts with precum hearing the hot, erotic noises coming out of Castiel's mouth.

The hot noises, along with Castiel's hot, wet breath, were puffed out against Dean's ear as Castiel clung to him, grinding his own erection against Dean's through their clothing, rutting against him, seeking out that pleasure on top of the hunter. He gasped and panted and sometimes he even mewled, a high whining sound that made Dean's gut clench and his cock throb, pushing him closer to the edge.

Dean's hands fumbled around to Castiel's head, maneuvered him, and claimed his mouth, kissing him hard and wet and hot and swallowing all the noises spilling from his lips. His hands moved lower, skimming over Castiel's narrow back, burning hot through the thin white dress shirt he still wore. Dean's hands moved lower, gliding down past the angel's belt, ghosting over his butt, and then grabbing him. Castiel jerked and gasped into Dean's mouth. Dean grabbed him again, squeezing the round, tight globes of Castiel's ass, and then started grinding him, pulling him closer and harder with this leverage.

Castiel keened with delight into Dean's mouth, pulled back, sought more, grabbed Dean's lower lip between his teeth and worried it, not too gently, and then finally, his body went stiff and shuddered. His hips jerked a few times, and then slowed, rolling gently against Dean's hips, against the other man's still hard cock. He looked up at Dean, catching his eye with a hazy, lusty look, and then licked at Dean's lower lip, sucking on it gently.

Dean groaned and felt himself go off, his body spasming beneath Castiel's lighter weight, trying to buck him, even as Dean held him close, unable and unwilling to let him go. Not just yet.

And that was how they spent most of their evenings. And afternoons. Sometimes in the morning, too. And really, anywhere and anytime that Sam wasn't around to get embarrassed and run out of the room.

In just two months, Dean had shown Castiel all sorts of pleasure and delights that he could feel with his body, with another person. Everything but, that is. Because now Castiel was an 'everything but virgin,' meaning, they'd done everything but the last final deed. That last touch of blasphemy and sin that got preempted by some other lewd and delightful trick Dean had learned from his years on the road with waitresses, bartenders, and strippers.

And it wasn't that Dean didn't want to go all the way with Castiel. He had already tried a few times, his hands groping around Castiel's body, getting the angel hot and bothered and needy, kissing him, rubbing his cock, and then sneakily sliding one hand toward the back, sliding down into Castiel's underwear, getting so far as fingering the tight, warm crease, before his hand was pulled away roughly, and he suddenly had a lap full of blushing and embarrassed angel.

"Not yet," Castiel would mumble, all awkward and adorable, so Dean couldn't argue with him. Would instead just kiss Castiel and show him some other way to get off that wasn't technically sex. It was kind of fun, and certainly was getting Dean's creative juices flowing, to see just what Castiel would let him do, besides the big and final penetration.

Initially anyway. But after two months, it was getting a little frustrating that he couldn't have sex with his boyfriend.

Each morning, Dean would go into Sam's motel room so they could meet up for breakfast. After three nights in a row of Sam coming back to their room to find a sock on the doorknob, and getting tired of sleeping in the Impala, Sam had started automatically getting two motel rooms, even when Castiel wasn't around. This part being because there had also been more than one occasion when Sam had woken up in the night to discover Castiel had suddenly appeared and was doing noisy things with Dean in the bathroom. The fact that they had been considerate enough not to do it in the bed right next to him was apparently not good enough.

They'd just finished a job the night before, taking out a small family of ghouls, which had led to Dean being slightly injured, Castiel healing him, and then, grateful that Dean was still alive, had pounced on him for that hot and hard humping session on the bed.

Sam was giving Dean the stink eye, which probably meant he'd heard them the night before. Well, that's what he deserved for getting two rooms next to each other.

"Find any new jobs?" Dean asked, glancing at the newspapers Sam had in one hand, the red marker in his other hand.

"Maybe vampires in Missouri or a haunting in Wyoming. I'm looking for something closer."

"Mm, yeah. Hey, have you talked to Cas recently?" Dean asked, his eyes glued to the table.

"I'm not allowed to talk to Cas anymore," Sam said, looking over the top of his paper to give his brother a teasing smile. "Why, is there trouble in paradise? Do you actually want to talk about your feelings?"

Dean fidgeted in his seat. He didn't want to talk about his feelings. Especially not with Sam. But he did need some sort of outside view. And it'd be really hard to call into the Dr. Drew show and ask about his reticent angel boyfriend.

"It's about Cas. He won't… you know…" Dean made an obscene hand gesture.

"Then what the Hell were you two screaming about last night?" Sam asked, looking put out that his beauty rest had been interrupted by their obnoxiously loud carnal adventures.

"We do… other stuff," Dean said evasively, not wanting to go into too much graphic detail with his brother.

"That is definitely something you need to talk to Cas about," Sam said. He turned back to his newspapers. For once, he didn't want to talk about Dean's feelings.

Dean made a long suffering groan. The only thing worse than talking about his feelings with Sam, would be talking about his feelings with Castiel. At least Sam was straightforward. Castiel was awkward and didn't understand anything.

"Can't you talk to him first? You gave him good advice before."

"I am not asking an angel of the Lord why he doesn't want to have buttsex with my brother," Sam said sternly, giving Dean his best bitchface.

Dean had to laugh because he made Sam say 'buttsex' but it quickly faded when he realized that he was still left having to confront Castiel about the 'everything but' virginity thing so that he could finally pop his cherry.

Dean had a proper date with Castiel that night, since clean-up and humping after a job didn't seem to count. He took Castiel out to a slightly nicer than usual restaurant, a small Italian bistro that he had seen on the drive into town. Afterwards, they walked around the bustling downtown area, blatantly holding hands and not caring when the small town locals gave them weird looks. They even found a small ice cream shop, and Dean encouraged Castiel to indulge his sweet tooth with a double scoop of pralines and cream, and rocky road.

With their ice cream finished, Dean having helped Castiel lick melted ice cream off his fingers, they went back to the motel to cap off the evening. In the car, Castiel already looked a little flushed, that tiny touch of tongue on his hands enough to get him started. Dean loved that it didn't take much to get his the angel excited.

Inside the motel room, Castiel slipped out of his trench coat and suit jacket, and then tugged Dean close, locking their lips together immediately. Dean moaned in appreciation as he stumbled them toward the bed. In a tangle of limbs, they sprawled out on the bed, Castiel underneath while they continued making out, the hungry, needy noises they made blending together.

Dean's hands went to Castiel's white shirt, carefully tugging the buttons out one by one, slowly exposing Castiel's milky white skin to his hands. Castiel moaned into Dean's mouth as his chest was rubbed and caressed, his nipples plucked to stiffness by Dean's callused fingers.

There was a ruffle of movement as Castiel sat up to pull his shirt off his shoulders, and then he reached for the hem of Dean's t-shirt and tugged it up. Before it was even free of Dean's arms, Castiel had latched his mouth to Dean's chest, mouthing him hungrily as his hands grazed over Dean's ribs.

Heat swelled it Dean's groin, making his jeans tight. He rolled his hips, pressing himself against Castiel's belly. Castiel shuddered beneath him and pushed Dean back so he could climb on top of him, fitting their hips together perfectly so that Dean could feel Castiel's matching erection.

Dean groaned, loving when Castiel pushed him back and climbed on top of him, eager and hungry for pleasure, grinding himself against Dean's body and making them both groan hotly. Dean reached behind, grabbing Castiel's ass, and squeezed him, pulled him closer, made him gasp with delirious pleasure as the sensations grew stronger between them.

"Can I?" Dean asked in a husky whisper, his hands sliding to the front, to the button of Castiel's pants. Castiel bit his lip, his cheeks bright red, and nodded once, quickly. But his timidity was overshadowed as his hands mirrored Dean's. Together, they undid each other pants, peeled them down, just enough, pushed aside the barrier of underwear, one pair of boxers, one pair of briefs, and pulled out the other's cock, each hard, swollen, red and dripping with excitement.

By touch, Dean rubbed their cocks together, while his eyes were fastened on Castiel's face as he was overwhelmed with pleasure, as he came apart under its onslaught. Dean wrapped his hand around both of them, jerking slowly, while Castiel moved above them, thrusting into Dean's hand, rubbing them together, making them a sticky mess.

"Beautiful," Dean groaned, and he reached up to touch Castiel's face, to graze his fingers over the angel's parted lips. Castiel's eyes slid open, hazy and lust-filled, and then he sucked Dean's finger into his mouth, licking it, sucking it, nipping it gently.

Dean groaned and his hips bucked up under Castiel's weight, rocking them harder together. Castiel let out a whimper as Dean's thumb slid over his sensitive tip, and then a series of low cries as Dean did it again and again, with a wicked smile.

"Dean… soon…" Castiel gasped, his hips moving faster.

"Not yet, Cas," Dean said, pulling his hand away from their cocks with a grin, sliding his hands over Castiel's hips, feeling him surge and roll.

"Dean," Castiel growled, his voice going deep and dangerous as the stimulation stopped. He ground his hips harder against Dean's, to make his disappointment clear.

"Don't growl. I won't leave you hangin'," Dean said with a lusty smile. His hands slid further back, along the loosened waist-band of Castiel's slacks, and then dipped into the back, finding the small crease between Castiel's cheeks.

Castiel went stiff above him, sitting up, and reached behind him to clasp Dean's hands. His face was blushing and bewildered.

"Not… not yet…" he mumbled, pulling Dean's hands away. Now, his eyes were everywhere else but on Dean. Dean leaned up to kiss him, force his face forward again.

"Hey, Cas, c'mon," Dean murmured against his lips. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, his hands slipping from Castiel's and going again to the back of his pants, though he didn't reach inside.

"I know," Castiel stammered out, blushing hotly, barely able to meet Dean's gaze. "But I'm not ready…"

"Not ready?" Dean said with a small laugh. "You feel ready to me." Dean gripped Castiel's cock and gave it a light squeeze, making Castiel gasp with pleasure, his eyes sliding shut again.

"Don't. You're trying to distract me," Castiel said breathlessly, pulling Dean's hand away. "Can't we just…?" Castiel let the words drift off as he rolled his hips against Dean, there cocks bumping against each other again deliciously.

Dean groaned, about to give in, but realized Castiel was just doing the same thing to him, so he grabbed the angel's hips and held him still.

"Cas, we've done everything, and I mean everything, else besides that. What's the hold up? Afraid to lose your angel purity ring or something?"

"I'm not afraid," Castiel insisted, his jaw jutting out.

"Then let's go!" Dean said and he pushed Castiel back onto the bed, maneuvering between his legs and tugging playfully on Castiel's pants.

"No!" Castiel said, and then there was the sound of fluttering wings and Castiel was no longer in the bed. Dean looked around and saw him standing on the other side of the room, holding up his pants with his hands and looking incredibly embarrassed.

"Cas," Dean growled. "Do we need to talk about something?"

"No," Castiel said, looking anxious, and still, anywhere but at Dean.

Dean sighed and got off of the bed, adjusting his pants and ignoring his erection that was still raging, even though his lover had literally run away in the middle of trying to have sex.

"Cas. There is some kind of problem here. Are you scared? Do you want to be the top? Do I have bad breath?" Dean stepped closer with each question, keeping his voice gentle in the face of Castiel's anxious expression. Castiel even had a little pout on his lips, clearly distraught.

"No…I'm not… you don't…. I can't talk about this…" Castiel said, and in a blink, he was gone, leaving Dean frustrated and annoyed and in need of a very long, and very cold shower.

"You need to talk to Cas," Dean said without preamble as he stormed into Sam's room the next morning.

"Again, not talking to an angel about buttsex. That's your job."

"I tried. He ran away."

"He ran away?"

"Yes. Literally in the middle of the talk. He flew off and he's ignoring my calls."

"You totally fail at talking about feelings."

"Thank God I have a little sister to help me."

Sam groaned, a prediction of his future suffering. "You are going to owe me for this so hard. I'm talking putting my ipod back in the Impala. I pick the jobs. I decide where we eat. For a month."

Dean cringed at the thought of Sam's ipod tacked to his baby's dash again, squealing out Sam's bitch music for a full month, but nodded in agreement because it was the only way he could see to get some clear information about what was going on with Castiel.

"Cas? I need some help with an Enochian translation," Sam called out to the ceiling. He always felt kind of awkward and foolish when talking to mid-air, but the results were usually good.

"That's not Enochian," Castiel said, appearing right next to Sam and looking at the sheet of paper in his hands, which was clearly in Latin.

"It's not? Oh, silly me. Well, since you're here, let's talk about you and Dean."

"What about Dean and I?" Castiel asked, his eyes instantly looking spooked and wary.

"You know exactly what. He tried to talk about it with you last night, but you flew off? Cas, you're an angel. What could possibly make you run away from your boyfriend?"

"He said I wasn't allowed to talk about it anymore…"

"Talk about what?"

"The fanfiction…"

Sam groaned. He knew he should have asked for more when bargaining with Dean. "What about the fanfiction?" he asked with a pained sigh.

"In the stories…" Castiel fidgeted, clearly as uncomfortable as Sam. "The sex is always so… amazing. Everything is perfect. And Dean and I are perfect for each other. And I'm worried… I'm worried it won't be like that and Dean will be disappointed."

"Dean's not going to be disappointed," Sam said reassuringly. "He loves you."

"But what if I'm terrible? What if I'm not tight enough, or I'm too tight and I hurt him? Or if I don't make the right sounds? Or I orgasm too soon and he is not finished?"

And then it was Sam's turn to burn incredibly red and get uncomfortable from the rush of words spilling from Castiel's lips. "You… You really should talk about this with Dean."

"I don't know how to say the right words," he said sadly, and then looked to Sam with wide, honest hope in his eyes. "Will you talk to him for me?" Castiel asked him, looking sad and lost, but Sam was not going to fall for it.

"I draw the line at hooking my brother up for gay, blasphemous angel love. I'm not going to talk to him about the sex acts that are involved. You're going to have to talk to him yourself."

Castiel nodded, but not without a determined and well put-upon pout on his lips.

Castiel appeared in Dean's room that night, after he'd had some time to think about how he was going to talk about this with Dean without dying of shame and embarrassment.

Dean was waiting for him on the bed. After a briefing with Sam, he knew a little bit of what to expect, but his brother had turned red when he asked for details and refused to give him any more information, aside from it being a 'fanfiction' thing. Dean was kind of worried about that, and let his mind wander to the worst scenarios he could think of. That way, he'd probably be relieved when Castiel finally confessed to whatever was bugging him.

"C'mere," he said to Castiel, and patted a space on the bed next to him. Castiel obeyed and sat next to Dean, stiffly at first until Dean wrapped him in his arms, pressing Castiel's back up against his chest, and ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it and tugging it gently. Castiel's eyes fluttered shut from the soft, intimate touch.

"You know I love you, right?" Dean murmured into his ear.

"Yes. I remember."

"Then you know you can tell me anything. If we have a problem, we can fix it together, right?"

"Yes. I'm sorry if I have caused you trouble."

"No worries. Just tell me what's bothering you."

"It's… really quite stupid," Castiel said, glad he wasn't looking at Dean so he wouldn't have to meet his eyes.

"Then it'll be easy to fix. C'mon babe, spill it," Dean urged gently.

"It's about all those stories I read, about us. I don't know if I can compare."

Dean frowned at the memory of the Destiel fanfiction. Though it had brought them together, the thought of weird young women writing about his love life, in freakish detail, would always disturb him. Especially with some of the weird kinks they got into.

"Cas," Dean whispered, right into Castiel's ear. "You will never compare to those stories."

Castiel's face fell, and he drew deeper into himself.

"You will never compare to those stories, because you are better than any piece of fiction ever written. You're alive, and warm, and you're all mine. Those stupid stories could never measure up to what you're capable of."

Castiel turned around to face Dean. "How can you be so sure? What if I'm terrible?"

"Seriously, Cas? Nothing you do is terrible. Why would sex be any different?"

Castiel made a low, keening sound in his throat, and then pressed his lips to Dean's, and after another moment, pushed Dean down against the bed, his kisses quickly becoming hotter and hungrier. Dean was so not about to complain.

Dean rolled them over and over on the bed, tugging at various pieces of clothing, his and Castiel's, and fending off kisses so he could think straight long enough to figure out his damn belt buckle. Buttons were ripped off, and there was the sound of ripping cloth, but Dean wasn't sure who's clothes it was, and he didn't care, as the last shred of it fluttered to the floor and he had Castiel naked in his bed, flushed and aroused, and finally eager for Dean. All the way.

"Cas, you are so gorgeous," Dean said huskily, and smiled as Castiel flushed and shook beneath him, a jumble of nerves and excitement.

"I'm sorry I made you wait," Castiel said, and Dean brushed off the apology with a quick press of lips to quiet him.

"Don't worry. We'll make up the lost time."

Dean struggled to keep his movements slow and careful, simultaneously wanting to savor the moment, and also wanting to get to it quickly, after such an agonizing wait. But he took his time, leery of scaring off his skittish boyfriend again if he went to fast.

Tentatively, Dean reached between Castiel's legs, his fingers wet with lube, and pressed between his cheeks, fingering the tight bud gently. Castiel bucked beneath him, his body going tight, and the breath gusting out past his lips. He looked up to Dean with wide eyes, biting his bottom lip, but he nodded. Encouraged Dean to continue.

Dean stretched Castiel carefully, savoring the looks that flitted across Castiel's face as he was stretched and probed deep inside, leaned in to listen to the soft cries and wails of pleasure that breached his lips. And as hot and hungry as Castiel was getting from Dean's fingers, Dean felt the same, feeling his tight clench, knowing what would soon be his.

"Dean, please," Castiel whispered, canting his hips up, his body knowing what to ask for, even if he couldn't find the words.

Dean nodded, smeared more lubricant on himself, and nudged gently between Castiel's legs, rubbing the tip against the loosened hole before pushing in slowly. They gasped together, eyes locked tight as Dean sank in deeper, finding Castiel tight and hot.

A steady rhythm started, one that Dean knew well from experience, and Castiel followed on instinct, letting his hips roll against Dean's, surging against him to find the right angle and crying out each time they hit it perfectly.

As they neared the peak, they moved faster, more frantic, Castiel clutching at Dean's shoulders, wrapping his legs around his waist, trying to hold onto something as he was pushed higher and higher, closer and closer to his pleasure, a sort of tight, condensed heat that he had come close to before, but wasn't the same, not now with Dean so deep inside him, and with his pleasure so dependent on the movement of the other man.

Castiel reached his orgasm with a low, rumbling moan, which gave way to another, higher, surprised sound as Dean spilled inside him, a sensation he hadn't considered much before, but that added an extra surge of sensation and pleasure. He clung to Dean, dizzy, hot, with his skin thrumming and sensitive. Every little shift Dean made, forced him to twitch, overwhelmed. Dean caught those twitches, those shakes and jerks, and smiled down at his lover, looking pleased with himself.

"You feeling OK, babe?" he asked gently, his voice rough from his earlier grunts and groans.

"Yeah," Castiel let out on a breathy sigh.

"Are you sore at all?" Dean asked, and pulled out gently, watching his semen leaking from between Castiel's cheeks, pleased from the sight of it, like the mark of a job well done.

"No. You can't hurt me, Dean."

"Good. You feeling OK too? Now that you're not even technically a virgin anymore?"

"I feel OK," Castiel said, with a little blush. "I feel silly for my earlier concerns."

"Ah yes, so, how do I compare to fanfiction Dean?"

Castiel was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he considered the perfect words. "While those women have a good grasp of our emotions and perceived dialogue, I must say, that their ability to describe the true sensation of sexual intercourse with you is incredibly lacking."

"Why, I think that's the nicest way anyone's ever said I'm a good lay."

"You were amazing. Wonderful. Delightful. Perfect," Castiel went on, showering Dean with small kisses for each word.

"Perfect? Not yet. But I'm willing to practice a lot more until we get there."

"I would like that very much."

Dean tumbled Castiel a few more times, just to make doubly sure that his boyfriend was not a virgin anymore. And before nodding off, he exacted a very binding promise from Castiel that there would never be anymore Destiel fanfiction in their lives ever again. Castiel agreed, because why would he need fanfiction anymore when he could finally act out his very own Destiel fantasies?

The End


End file.
